


the world, with you

by runtedfiction



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Hints of reincarnation, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, another post-canon slowburn orz, less restoration more rest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runtedfiction/pseuds/runtedfiction
Summary: Though he no longer has to follow, he does. Though she no longer has the weight of the world, she carries it. Link and Zelda saved the world—now it’s time to live in it.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 93





	1. wherever you go

**Author's Note:**

> does the world need another postcanon slowburn??? no
> 
> am i going to write one anyway??? yes

Her first night back is surreal. The moonlight, the stars, the crisp autumn air--all this is foreign. It must be a dream. She’s still a too-late goddess doomed to eternal sleep, sealed in the sanctum with Ganon.

“I remember.” 

She looks at him, surprised. Link ladles something into a bowl, places it in her hands, and repeats himself more softly this time. “You asked me if I really remembered you. I do.”

And all of a sudden, everything from the past few days comes back: watching him enter the castle, feeling Ganon rip free from her magic, sealing the beast away as soon as they hit its core. 

Holding him briefly, then sitting side by side afterwards until the sun set, the world quiet save for his horse grazing in the grass.

Now she’s in her former bedroom where they’re camping for the night. It’s strange to feel her body again. Here’s the dresser where her mother brushed her hair every night; there’s the windowsill where her father hugged her after nightmares.

Here, in front of her, is where the Hero of Hyrule has cooked her soup. She takes a hesitant sip. He’s watching her, and though she hasn’t eaten for the past century, she’s pleased to find her taste buds still work. It’s mushroomy and meaty and hearty. She doesn’t remember what hunger feels like, but she wouldn’t mind eating more of this. 

“It’s quite tasty,” she says. “Thank you.”

Maybe a flicker of a smile appears on his face; maybe it’s the fire casting shadows. After all, he looks bone tired. A cut still bleeds every now and then on his cheek, and a nasty burn ripples on his forearm. If he notices her watching him, he doesn’t say anything, but she feels embarrassed to have emerged from Ganon unscathed. The goddess blood and all that, she supposes. 

Once they finish eating, she rummages through the rubble for things to sleep on. Two old couch cushions and a few dubious sheets (curtains?) will have to do, and she wonders how he’s been sleeping for the past few months. She knows that he doesn’t have a bedroll, and that he’s stayed awake for days at a time, but he gives her a nod of thanks and falls asleep instantly.

She lies down but can’t stop thinking about the sanctum. How Ganon oozed and pulsed and grew stronger by the year. How when he wasn’t sleeping, he hissed in tongues she couldn’t understand. How part of her is convinced she’s still there, suspended in limbo. She pulls the curtain over her head, and only when the first signs of morning light stream in does sleep come. 

For the first time in a very long time, Zelda sees nothing in her dreams.

* * *

The next few days in Hyrule Castle are difficult, but at least she isn’t alone. The stench of monsters still lingers, and though she straps the Bow of Light firmly to her back, she suspects Link follows her just in case a Lizalfos is waiting. 

Her main priority now is finding things that can be salvaged. She hasn’t brought it up to him yet, but she wants to travel to each Divine Beast and honor the champions. Along the way, she also wants to begin restoration efforts. She knows they just finished the battle of a lifetime, but she owes it to her father and her friends to start building a better world. It’s something that gave her hope in the sanctum. 

It’s ok if he wouldn’t want to go, but she’s afraid that he’ll say yes even if he doesn’t want to. 

They find riches hidden in the walls, cutlery in the kitchen, and luckily, traveling packs in the guard’s chamber. There are bedrolls and practical clothes, and she nearly stabs herself trying to move a heavy claymore out of the way. 

“Here,” he says, and with one grunt, takes the sword in both his hands and places it in the corner. 

He helps her carry everything to her room where they’ve cleaned up as best they can. It’s almost funny, the neat piles of food and clothes next to the massive hole in the wall.

They don’t talk much about the Calamity or the future. Instead, they talk about little things--he asks what she wants to eat for dinner, and she asks if he wants more blankets. She can’t even bring herself to ask him about the Slate; he says nothing about how she left him with no memories and the challenge of a lifetime. 

The first time they get close to talking about anything is when she spies a crooked portrait in her father’s room. At first, she doesn’t think much of it; it’s probably one of her many many relatives who sat on the throne.

But she takes a closer look anyway, and in fell swoop, the world reminds her of everything she has lost.

It’s a portrait of her parents. Her father, strong and proud. Her mother, beautiful and glowing. They’re happy. It’s most likely from before she was born.

Would they still be alive if she weren’t?

Perhaps if she hadn’t been playing god for the past hundred years, she’d be crying right now. But for what it’s worth, there _is_ a heavy weight in her heart, one that knots her stomach and makes her throat tight. A weight that makes Link’s hand on her shoulder feel kind and important.

“Let me show you something,” he says. 

She follows until they reach the door of her study, but she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to see at first. They already found her research journal; nothing else was useful. 

He kneels, and points at something in the corner. 

A single silent princess grows out of the brick, elegant and tall, its petals facing the sun.

“Oh,” she breathes. “It’s beautiful.”

She wonders when he noticed it, and that heavy feeling in her heart multiplies.

* * *

Later that night, it’s difficult to talk. 

“Do mushroom and meat skewers sound alright?” he asks, and maybe she answers yes in a particularly despondent way, because he stops whittling the skewers and looks at her sitting by her old desk. 

“What?” she asks, hoping that her hair is neat and face clean, and that he isn’t pitying her. Because if anything, he’s lost more than she has. The only thing she has to shoulder more is the weight of failure.

He pulls out the Sheikah Slate, and she sits up a little bit.

“Do you want to see how this works?” he asks. “Or, er, how I’ve been using it?”

“Yes,” she says. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

She walks over and he shows her how he can move a fork because it’s made of metal, and how he can freeze a chair, kick it once, and have it move only after the freezing stops. He produces bombs in his hands--two different kinds, useful in different scenarios he explains--and takes a picture of their food for the night.

“Look,” he says. “It can recognize that this is a Hylian Shroom.”

She’s seen snippets of him using the Slate, but never the full thing, and it’s hard for her to process all the features it’s gotten as she leans in to get a better look. 

“Fascinating,” she murmurs as he shows her the album. 

The first twelve photos look awfully familiar, and her eyes widen.

“I took these,” she says.

He nods. “And I went to each one.”

“The one in the forest,” he points out. “Near Wetland stable?”

He pulls up the photo, and she nods. A generic looking place, but she thought it looked particularly pretty that day, with patches of sunlight reaching the forest floor.

“That was without a doubt the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, finding that place,” he jokes. There’s a ghost of a smile on his mouth. 

She tries to smile back. “Sorry.”

They sit in a comfortable silence flipping through the rest of his photos--one of a sunset by Lurelin Village is particularly nice—, but then his stomach growls, and she pulls away.

“Ah, I’ve distracted you,” she says. “Let me help with dinner.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” he says. He walks over to her desk and places the Slate down. “Keep fiddling with this, all I have to do is grill.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. 

“Yes. Here’s the map.”

He hasn’t ever let her help him with the food, but she’s not going to complain as she walks back to her desk and studies the map of Hyrule. There’s so much still to see and to learn. It’s almost overwhelming, the amount of things she needs to know now that she’s back, but this is as good a start as any.

“Link,” she says, and she hopes he can tell that there’s so much more she wants to say. “Thank you.”

* * *

On their seventh night in the castle, she decides it’s time to bring up leaving. 

“I was thinking,” she starts, and then stops to clear her throat. “I was thinking of leaving sometime soon. Tomorrow, even.”

“Ok,” he says. 

He doesn’t even ask where she intends to go, or when, or if he should follow, and for some reason this irritates her as much as it reassures her. 

“I want to help restore Hyrule, and visit all the Divine Beasts to honor the champions,” she says. He nods, and salts the fish he’s grilling. “You don’t--you don’t have to come with me.”

He looks up at this, brows knit. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I know you’re my appointed knight, but things are different now,” she says, a bit too quickly. “And you’ve worked so hard--you deserve rest. You deserve to do whatever you want to do.”

“Worked so hard” is an understatement. In reality what he has done is nearly die a thousand times over the past year to save the world. If all he wants to do now is fish in Lurelin Village, he should.

“And,” she adds, hesitating when she sees the troubled expression doesn’t disappear from his face, “I can protect myself now! I have the Bow of Light. My sealing magic would work in a pinch.”

“I want to come,” he says. It’s his turn to hesitate now as he drops his gaze. “Would it be alright if I did?” 

It occurs to her that maybe he thinks _she_ doesn’t want him to come along. There _was_ a time when she yelled at him to stop following her, and internally she scolds herself for how stupid she was in that moment. But what she wanted then is the farthest from what she wants now.

“Of course I’d like you to come!” she replies. “Of course. But just in case you wouldn’t want to...”

She trails off, looking for any sign of doubt on his face. There isn’t any, just the same serious, thoughtful expression on his face as he pokes at the fire.

“I do,” he says, placing a porgy on her plate and sprinkling a bit of salt on top. 

They finish eating dinner in silence, and she pulls up the map on the Sheikah Slate, writing down and drawing an approximate itinerary for the next few weeks in a journal. Kakariko Village first, then Zora’s Domain, with points of interest being Hateno Village and the Spring of Wisdom. He cleans the bowls, and begins packing the things they’ve accumulated away.

“We can head to Outskirt Stable tomorrow morning,” he says, rolling out the bedrolls.

“Ah, good call out.” She amends the itinerary. “Afterwards, we’ll go to Kakariko.”

He nods, puts out the fire, and falls asleep instantly, just like every other night. It’s comforting, hearing him breathe in and out as she continues to take notes. They’ll tackle Zora’s Domain, Death Mountain, Rito Village, and Gerudo City in order.

(Out of all her beloved friends, the one whose death stings the most is Urbosa’s. It feels important to save that one for last.)

Somewhere between midnight and morning, she hears a whisper. It’s a faint rustle, and fear strikes first. Her eyes dart around the room, and she grabs the Bow of Light just in case, when her eyes land on his sword and she realizes--it’s the sword. It’s speaking to her again. 

_Wherever you go,_ it says, glowing faintly in the dark, _he follows._


	2. princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to my boyfriend who keeps threatening to take the game back from me--you only make me stronger

When she wakes, Link is ready to go. She’s realized over the past few days that he does a million little things before she even opens her eyes. Hunts, feeds his horse, cleans, cooks.

“Thank you,” she murmurs when he places an omelet in front of her, and once more when he motions to a bucket of water that she can use to wash up. Today feels important, and she knows it’s wildly impractical, but she dons her jewelry and ceremonial dress. 

(It’s best to say goodbye to her parents like this.)

At the gates, she leaves the portrait and a silent princess. They both kneel, and Zelda knows Hylia hears when she wishes the best for her family. Perhaps in a few years, she’ll return to the only home she’s known as Queen. Perhaps never. 

He hooks their backpacks to the saddle on his massive horse and helps her hop on. His arm behind her knee is steady, and he hoists her up as she scrambles to sit upright. The horse, predictably, is not happy about this commotion, but before he can even start snorting in protest they reach for his mane and begin petting. She remembers some conversation a lifetime ago about soothing, and smiles as Link pulls out an apple. 

“I caught him in the Taobab Grasslands,” he says as the horse begins munching.

“Oh,” she says. “I think I saw that.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You did?”

The visions she saw in the sanctum were selective, as she drifted in and out of mortal consciousness to keep evil incarnate at bay. But she does remember a vast grassland with two Lynels and a horse nearly bucking him off to his death. Her theory is that Hylia chose to show her his most heroic and dangerous moments so that she could keep watch.

“There were two Lynels on the way? Silver ones?”

“Yes,” he answers. She wonders if it’s unsettling to him that she knows this, and makes a mental note to tell him later she didn’t see _everything,_ only the important things. 

“What did you name him?” she asks.

“Daruk,” he says, and oh, there’s that weight in her chest again. He must feel it too. “Could you...could you move back a bit?”

“Yes, sorry,” she apologizes. She knows that they were going to share a horse on the way to the stable, but the thought of holding onto him still makes some part of her heart twitch as she scoots back.

He jumps onto Daruk effortlessly, and without any words she loops her arms around him in the most respectful way she can. This is the first time they’ve been this close since…

Her face pales.

When Daruk starts galloping, it’s too loud for Link to say anything, but she’s still glad he doesn’t as she presses her cheek against his back. At this moment, she is no longer Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, descendant of Hylia, and sealer of Ganon. She is a girl, barely eighteen, holding onto a boy and thanking god that he’s alive. 

* * *

She’s calculated that it’ll take a full day to arrive at the stable. It’s a long journey, and he’s probably starving based on the way he devours his share of the baked apples and dried jerky during their midday break. Zelda brushes Daruk as he drinks from a pond, and points to her daypack. She slipped behind a tree earlier to change into her practical clothes, so she doesn’t mind the water that splashes when he neighs happily. 

“Take my portion too,” she tells him.

Link shakes his head, and fills his waterskin. 

She frowns. “Please, I insist.”

He shakes his head again. “You’ll be hungry.”

“I won’t,” she says. “But you’ll be.”

“Maybe in a bit then.”

“I assure you, I won’t be hungry,” she says. “But you still are, so take it.”

He looks at her. “You won’t be?”

“I...I don’t get hungry,” she explains, not quite meeting his eyes. “Not yet, at least. It’s only been a week since I’ve been back, I think. I think my body still needs time to adjust.”

(What she doesn’t say is that she’s not sure what this means. How long it will take, what it means for aging, why she can only sleep a few hours each night.)

He walks over to her backpack and hands her one of the apples. 

“Please, just one,” he says. “I’ll eat the others.”

She can’t say no to that.

* * *

It’s dark when they reach the stable, and she wonders if he’s stressed about Stalkoblins and the like because Daruk has been sprinting for the last half an hour. She’s keenly aware of the bow on her back just in case, and imagines the Triforce glowing on the back of her hand. But thankfully, the stable appears in the distance. The notes of a homey tune get louder and louder as they approach, and the man who seems to be the owner recognizes Link as soon as he takes off his hood. 

“Hey!” He waves. His face is creased from smiling and the sun. “How can I help?”

“Is Toffa here?”

“To the right, near Princess.”

 _Princess?_ Link slides off and unhooks their packs. She unmounts much less gracefully with his help.

“And did ya hear?” the owner asks, smile growing wide wider. “Ganon is gone! Someone came by last week with this crazy story of seeing a giant monster on the field, and light flashing everywhere. And we haven’t had a blood moon yet.”

So other people know. She stays quiet, rearranging the things in her pack that have shifted during travel. 

“I heard,” Link says, reaching down into his backpack to pull out some rupees. “Two beds tonight, please, and two sets of honey crepes and one seared steak for dinner. Tomorrow, I’d like to take out Princess and...”

Zelda looks away. There are stablehands sweeping, travelers drinking, and a comically overloaded merchant selling things. It’s the first time she’s been around this many people in ages, and she watches a little girl play tag with herself. It feels nice. Normal. She wonders how many people know that the malice is gone, and if their lives feel different now. But the fires crackle, the band plays songs upon request, and it feels life has carried on just fine post-apocalypse.

“Ah, young man! You know, if I was a bit younger,” a voice to their right says, approaching with the sound of hoof steps. “I would go off on an adventure, and ride this magnificent horse with a gal just like the--”

The voice stops, and she looks up to find an old man holding a white horse.

“Storm?” she asks. The mane is white, the face is particularly delicate, and she wonders if she’s in a dream. But then she realizes that she’s spoken out loud, and there’s no way Storm is still alive. She bows her head. “Oh, my apologies for interrupting--I didn’t see you.”

“Like the princess,” the old man finishes, a smile on his face. “No worries. My name is Toffa. Pleased to meet you.”

Zelda nods. She squints at the horse’s gear, and dejavu kicks in again. It’s even the same royal bridle and saddle. “Likewise.”

She wonders if Link notices that she purposefully omits telling Toffa her name, or that she’s very intent on keeping her hood close to her face. Regardless, he jumps in. 

“Thank you for taking care of Princess for so long,” he says with a bow of his head. “I’ll be taking her and Revali out tomorrow morning and boarding Daruk indefinitely.”

“You’re welcome,” Toffa says, not taking his eyes off of Zelda’s face.

She almost smiles-- _Revali, really?_ \--and is ready to ask about the bridle, when from behind them the oversized merchant appears. The sign from his gargantuan traveling pack scrapes the sides of the stable as he rushes in to greet Link.

“Hiya buddy! I _knew_ you were stalking me!”

Link doesn’t know how to respond, and neither does Zelda as the merchant pulls down a mobile shelf attached to his backpack. It’s impressive, honestly, that he manages to move at all like this.

“You need anything?” he asks. He takes out an array of items, and places them on the shelf one by one as quickly as he can name them. “Arrows, hot footed frogs, and today’s special, hearty lizards!”

Link doesn’t even get in a word before the merchant continues. “Actuall--”

“Ah, or maybe you’re looking to sell! I’m paying top dollar for gemstones, and, you guessed it, beetles!”

“Actually,” Link continues, “Beedle, it’s been a long day, and we were looking to eat and then sleep.”

“Oh,” he says. His disappointment is palpable. 

“Hello,” Zelda says pleasantly. Beedle turns to look at her, and she smiles. “How much would you pay for diamonds? "

His eyes grow wide. “Diamonds? Depends. What do ya have?”

She opens her hand and presents a necklace and an earring, both glittering in the firelight.

“Oh wow,” he says, squinting and putting on a set of gloves. “Diamonds, indeed!”

He puts out his hands, and she drops the jewelry in gently. “I know they’re set already, and they’re quite small, but I’m sure with the proper tools, you could pick the gems out.”

“Where did you get this?” he asks, pulling out a magnifying glass. “The chain is _gorgeous_. I’ve never seen anything made like this.”

“Hyrule Castle,” she replies. Hers or her mother’s, maybe even a guest’s. Something none of them have any use for now.

Beedle laughs, and she’s not sure if he believes her. “400 rupees.”

“500,” she counters. “I’d ask for 600, but I know the other earring is missing.”

“450.”

“475.”

“465, and that’s my final offer.”

“Done.” Zelda holds out her hand, and Beedle shakes it. 

“Your friend here certainly strikes a bargain,” he says to Link, laughing. “Have the two of you been traipsing around the castle for loot?”

She almost laughs. “Something like that.”

Zelda puts away the rupees in a small velvet pouch, and after Link exchanges some more pleasantries with people who recognize him--including the little girl, she notes, amused--the stable owner yells that their crepes are ready, and it’s time to eat. They sit at the end of a table with young travelers drinking mead.

“So,” she says, unraveling her cutlery. “Princess is a nice name, isn’t it?”

Link won’t meet her eyes as he cuts into the steak, and she smiles. She’d forgotten what it was like to tease him.

“How did you catch a horse like that?”

He places part of the meat on her plate. “You didn’t--you didn’t see that?”

“No,” she says, taking a bite of the steak. It’s good, and pairs surprisingly well with the honey crepe. 

“Toffa heard about it, and told me to go to Safula Hill. He guessed that the horse would be a royal descendant, based off the tales his grandfather told him.”

“I see,” she says. “Well thank you for catching her. She looks so much like Storm, I still can’t believe it.” 

It’s definitely a smile on his face this time. A small one, but a smile nonetheless. 

“You’re welcome,” he says. “I’m glad it was a surprise.”

And all of a sudden, she doesn’t want to tease him about the name Princess, or bring up that Revali must be furious to know a _horse_ is his namesake. There’s a warm, fuzzy feeling inside her chest instead.

The Hero of Hyrule wanted to surprise her. 

* * *

When they leave the next morning, Toffa has Princess and Revali by the reins ready to go. Link and Zelda hook on their backpacks and look through the route to come on the Slate. Using a conservative estimate, Kakariko will take more than a day, and they’ll be there early tomorrow morning. 

“Stopping at Proxim Bridge, and then stay at Dueling Peaks for the night, correct?” she asks.

He nods. “Right.”

They feed their horses the first round of Endura Carrots--Princess is wary of her, but maybe it’s too early in the morning to start getting fussy yet--and then they mount. 

Toffa steps in front of them, and clasps his hands behind his back.

“Miss, before you leave,” he says, and his eyes are locked on hers. “May I ask what your name is?”

Link is also watching her, the way he used to when a monster she wanted to take a picture of got _too_ close, or that time the court poet took her hand and begged her not to leave for the Spring of Wisdom.

“Toffa,” he starts, but she shakes her head and he stops. 

Now is a good time as any, she supposes, for people to know that she’s alive. She takes off her hood, and watches as Toffa’s eyes grow wide.

“Zelda,” she says as he curves into a deep bow. Her name is proud in her mouth, if a little strange. “Princess of Hyrule.”


	3. road to kakariko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you're wondering (you're not), i traveled this route in my game, but i'm definitely fudging the numbers to fit with the story hehe. i also wrote in the octorocks because they made me mad when they popped up

As soon as Link sees a skull cave on the way to Proxim Bridge, he stops the horses. 

“Do you need any help--” she starts, but in what must be the span of one minute, he grabs his bow off his back, fires 3 arrows, and a massive explosion wipes out the cave judging by the screams of monsters in the distance.

“--or not,” she finishes, and looks at him with her eyes wide. The cave was too far for any normal human being to shoot at. “How did you do that?”

He holds up the bow, and she sees that the string is glowing blue. 

“An Ancient Bow,” he says. “Robbie sold it to me.”

“Oh, wow.”

Robbie--that’s a name she hasn’t heard in ages. The last she saw of him, he was talking to her about the Slate and strumming on an awfully loud lute. If Robbie is alive, Purah probably is too. She’s too afraid to ask, but her mind gets the best of her and she tries to picture her. Does Purah still have that streak in her hair? Did things work out with Symin? Does she still talk to Impa?

As if Princess can sense that she’s not paying attention, she whines and tosses her head. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, and goes back to rubbing at Princess’s neck. “Fussy girl, aren’t we.”

Thankfully for the monsters, there aren’t any more skull caves on the way to the bridge. When they approach, they unmount and see a young man holding a spear, waving. 

“Hey!” he shouts. “I wondered when I would see you again!”

Link waves back, and does he know literally everyone in Hyrule?

“Ah,” the man says as soon as they’re close enough for him to talk at a normal volume. “You brought a friend this time.”

“This is Zelda,” Link says. “Zelda, this is Brigo. He makes sure the bridge is safe.”

“Zelda, like that princess!” Brigo says. “What a lovely name.”

She smiles. “Thank you.”

They unpack their lunch--more dried jerky and baked apples--and Brigo sits next to them as they eat. 

“Would you like an apple?” she asks. It’s only polite, she figures. 

“Ah, you’re too kind,” Brigo says, and shakes his head. “There was a merchant selling prime meat that just passed, and I couldn’t give that opportunity up.”

“By the way,” he continues. “Have you two seen the castle lately?”

“Yes,” they say at the same time, and Brigo laughs.  
  
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it? All that nasty stuff swirling around it is gone. The monsters in this area have also decreased exponentially, and we’re also hoping that the blood moons are done for good.”

She nods, not really listening. Link carries on the conversation, and she chews an apple slowly.

From this distance, the castle looks normal. Death Mountain to the right makes it look so small in comparison, and the rolling hills in front of them look like a painting, with trees dotted yellow and orange and red. The sun glitters off the river. She hasn’t seen a view like this for ages. It’s strange that she was in that castle for the past century, in a room that she can’t even see from here now.

* * *

The river on the way to Dueling Peaks is full of Octorocks, and after one hits a little bit too close, Link jumps off his horse. 

“Lead the horses up,” he says, tethering Revali to Princess. “I’ll go ahead.”

He mutters something to himself as he runs off (if she had to guess, it sounds like “sneaky little bastards”), holding not one, but two bombs in his hand.

It’s almost funny to watch how single mindedly he clears the path. Bombs go off in the water, one after the other, and he hurls them with expert aim. Revali and Princess seem used to the commotion, but she still jumps a bit at the sound of each one. 

They arrive at Dueling Peaks at golden hour. It’s much more peaceful here than at Outskirt last night; a traveller sits by the cooking pot, humming and making elixirs. A dog naps on the soft grass. Once Revali and Princess are resting with buckets of feed that they buy, Link checks the time on the slate.

“Since we have time, we could make dinner tonight instead of buying it?” he proposes. “I’m thinking mushroom risotto. We have dry mushrooms that we can soak and rice to wash, and I’ll see what else we can gather from those trees over there.”

“Sure,” she says. “I’ll start the mushrooms and rice and meet you out there?”

“Sounds good,” he says, picking out a hand shovel from a heap of tools on a crate.

When she goes out in the field to find him, he’s on his hands and knees digging for something. It seems to be a very intense operation, and he jumps a little when she asks what he’s looking for.

“A truffle,” he says. He unearths it after a hard pull, and this might be the most excited she’s ever seen him. She called him a glutton in a past life, and she’s glad that hasn’t changed. “It’s a lucky day today.”

“A good find,” she agrees. 

By the cooking pot, she presents him with the mushrooms and the rinsed rice. He tosses them in along with the water used to soak the mushrooms, a healthy pinch of salt, and truffle shavings. 

While they wait for the rice to cook, she asks the question that’s been in the back of her mind all day as their arrival to Kakariko looms on the horizon: “How’s Impa doing?”

She’s glad her voice sounds casual enough, though she’s not too sure how she casually can ask about her oldest, dearest friend.

He grabs a spoon and tastes the rice before adding more salt. “Haven’t you seen?”

“Bits and pieces,” she replies. “I saw everything that Hylia thought was important, like when you entered Kakariko and spoke with her, or when she gave you the Champion’s tunic. But I don’t know why she gave you the tunic, or what your journey to Kakariko was like.”

“She gave me the tunic after I found a memory,” he says. “And the journey was alright.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so they sit and watch the rice cook in silence. How does she ask if Impah _wants_ to see her? What’s it going to be like, seeing her after Impa’s lived a hundred years in the land that Zelda cursed? Does her best friend understand that she tried really hard to save everyone, but just couldn’t? Could Impah forgive her for the deaths of their friends? And even if she could, would she? 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

“I just--I can’t,” she starts. She doesn't know what to say, so she blurts out, “Do I look nice?” 

He furrows his brow. “What?” 

She’s embarrassed, and her voice becomes small. “For tomorrow? Do you think...would Impa--do I look nice?”

Maybe he’s decided to be nice today, or maybe he can tell how stupid her question is because he’s smiling very gently.

“Of course you do.”

He sounds very confident, and that makes her embarrassed all over again.

* * *

They set off on horseback the next morning after ordering a hearty breakfast. She estimates it’ll take two hours to get to Kakariko, and there’s a knot in her stomach that keeps twisting. It’s presumptuous, walking into the village like people should care that she’s back. Maybe they should’ve written beforehand--Impa’s probably busy. Maybe they should just turn back. 

She almost asks him if they should turn back, but she has a feeling all he’d do is say “What? No.” and carry onward.

They keep moving, and she hears Kakariko before she sees it. The wind carries the faint sounds of wood charms clattering against each other. There are small waterfalls bubbling on either side of them as they ride in, and she can’t believe she forgot how gorgeous the world is. 

They reach the gate, and she squints.

“Is that a Korok up there?” she asks. 

It’s delighted that it’s been spotted, and it waves its free hand around. “Ya ha ha! Tweehee!”

“You can see them too?” Link slides off his horse and she follows.

“I’ve been to the forest,” she says. “I’ve been able to see them ever since.”

Even though it’s sheathed, his sword seems to glow with the memory of when she held it in her hands. It reminds her of what she didn’t tell the Deku Tree when she placed the sword in its care, and she turns away.

They lead their horses in, keeping their hoods drawn. An old woman recognizes Link--with the bright blue of his Champion’s tunic and the Slate on the hip, it’s hard to miss him--and Zelda does her best to avoid eye contact. She’s worn old clothes she found in the castle to hopefully pass off as a traveler.

If it were a normal day, it’d be easy for her to appreciate the hustle and bustle of village life as they walk in deeper into Kakariko. People are farming and painting and gossipping, and chickens run around with abandon. One stops to cluck at her, and she has to shoo it off. Link is amused at this.

But it isn’t a normal day, and once Impa’s house comes into view, she swallows nervously. Her mouth is completely dry by the time they tether their horses to the tree closest to the house. 

Another Korok dances in front of her, but she can’t find it in herself to smile.

“Link!” one of the two guards in front of the house says. 

“Hi Dorian,” he says, taking off his hood. “How’re Koko and Cottla?”

“Good, good,” Dorian replies with a smile. “They’ve started school now, but I’m sure they’d love to see you once they get out today.”

Link smiles back. It’s incredible to Zelda how easy it is for him to talk to people now. “I’d like that too.”

“Who’s your friend?” the other guard asks. 

She takes off her hood, and to her surprise, they don’t appear very surprised. 

“Ah,” Dorian says, “Impa said this day would come soon.”

The guards step aside and take a knee. “Welcome, Princess.”

Link and Zelda take the stairs, and she wants so badly to stop here. Maybe they could sit out here for a day, and admire the waterfalls and the mountains and the lily pads. Maybe she could convince Link to turn back. Maybe she could find a hole to sleep in for the next hundred years.

But she knows she has a duty to do, and she places her hand on the right side of the door when they reach it. It trembles.

“Logically, I know this is the right step,” she says, voice barely louder than a whisper. It’s hard to get the words out. “But what if...what if she doesn’t want to see me?”

He places his hand on the other side of the door, and squeezes her free hand with his. Link’s hand is warm and rough and lovely, and she closes her eyes.

“Every time I came here,” he says, “Impa would tell me about you. How you were fighting Ganon alone for so long."

He squeezes her hand again. “I’d bet all the rupees in the world that she wants to see you.”

That familiar ache in her chest returns. He could tell her anything in that confident tone and she’d believe it. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes.

“Ok,” she says. “I’m ready.”

They open the door in unison, bringing sunlight into a dimly lit room. There are rows of neat cushions, and it smells like incense and old books and freshly washed clothes. In the center of it all is Impa. She’s so small and old and kneeling on a stack of cushions as tall as she is. Her eyes are warm when she sees Zelda.

“There you are!” she says, smiling. “It’s about time.”

After a long silence in which Zelda can do nothing but stare wide-eyed, Impa breaks it with a laugh. “Princess, what are you _wearing_?”

For the first time in a hundred years, Zelda cries.


	4. honor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kakarikooooooo! ✨ my favorite little village in the game

She cries, and it’s ridiculous that this is happening. The Hero of Time and the leader of Kakariko are in this room and all she can do is cry into her hands. The silence in the air hangs heavy.

“Princess,” Link and Impa say at the same time, and all she can choke out is a “sorry, sorry.”

She tilts her head up, and focuses on taking deep breaths. It takes a bit before her vision is clear again and the sharp twisting in her chest fades into a dull ache.

“Princess,” Impa says. “Please, come forward.”

Zelda walks, brushing tears from her face, and Impa reaches out her hands. They’re soft and smooth and spotted with age, and Zelda places them in hers.

“Thank you,” Impa says. 

She doesn’t know what to say. _Thank you?_

“Thank you,” Impa repeats. “I can only imagine what the past hundred years were like for you, but I want you to know that the Sheikah and all of Hyrule will never forget your sacrifice.”

She’s speechless. _Sacrifice?_ Why is Impa being so kind? Has time softened the fact that she _caused_ all this? 

“I can also only hope,” Impa continues, and there’s a lump in Zelda’s throat again, “that you don’t blame yourself for anything that happened. You couldn’t have known. You were only a child.”

Maybe Impa can see how her face starts to crumple at this again, because she pulls her in for a hug. 

How many times did they hug like this in the past? 

How many times did she cry on Impa’s shoulder about how she couldn’t awaken her power or study the things she wanted or breathe in this cursed world? How many times did she wish that she wasn’t born? That in a different timeline, someone more capable, more confident, would’ve sealed the malice the instant the world rumbled with Ganon’s roar?

“Restore,” Zelda manages to get out in between sobs. “I’ll-I’ll restore.”

“Restore?” Impa asks, and she nods. “Restore Hyrule?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” she says. She places a hand in her hair and it’s so tender that it stabs at her chest. “For now, all you have to do is rest.”

She cries, and Impa holds her.

* * *

When she can breathe again, the door to the house opens. Zelda quickly turns around. 

Standing in the doorway is a teenage girl carrying a few bags. She looks an awful lot like Impa when she was young, and oh. This must be her granddaughter. Zelda’s heart swells.

“Ah!” the girl exclaims. She’s immediately endearing. “Oh my goodness, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything! Oh, Master Link, hi--”

“Paya,” Impa says, smiling. Zelda wonders if she heard her correctly. _Master Link?_ “It’s alright, don’t worry. You didn’t interrupt anything. Princess Zelda has arrived.”

Paya gasps and makes eye contact with Zelda, who also smiles. She bends the knee. “Princess, it’s an honor. My grandmother has told me so much.”

People taking the knee and calling her Princess is something she’s still not used to, and she brushes at her cheeks to dry her tears. “Please, stand. It’s nice to meet you Paya.”

Link waves. “Hey Paya.”

Paya blushes a lovely pink that settles into her cheeks, and ah. Master Link makes a bit more sense now.

“I wanted to know what you want for dinner, grandmother,” Paya says. “I picked up rice, fish, butter, pumpkins, and a visiting merchant from Hateno sold me fresh milk.”

“Wonderful,” Impa says. She turns to Zelda and Link. “Lots of merchants have swung by lately. If nothing else, the defeat of Calamity Ganon has been good for business.”

They just look back at her.

“It’s a joke, dears,” she says. “You can laugh.”

Zelda grimace-smiles, and Link manages a weak chuckle that sounds more like a cough.

“Paya, we’re going to have guests tonight, and for the next few nights I imagine, so would you mind doubling the portions and preparing the food soon? Anything works.”

“Yes,” she says. “I can go out and get some more things.”

“Let me help,” Link offers, and as if on cue, Paya turns pinker.

“You--you really don’t have to!”

“I can help you carry stuff,” he says. “We can empty the bags you have in the kitchen and go.”

“Al-alright.”

They go deeper into the house, presumably to the kitchen, and Zelda wonders if Paya’s face ever gets so red that the tattoo on her forehead blends in.

“Interesting, isn’t it,” Impa says once they’re alone. Zelda still can’t believe that this is her friend. She’s seen this small woman in this big hat in her visions, but up close, she looks so different from the Impa she remembers. “I don’t remember ever fancying someone like that at that age.”

Zelda nods. “It sure is something.”

Impa lowers her voice. “I read her diary recently. She’s _smitten_.”

“Impa, you did _not._ ”

She laughs. “The only thing is, I’m not too sure if he’s noticed anything yet.” 

“Link’s smart,” Zelda says, thinking about when she last had a conversation like this. A lifetime ago, either at Zora’s Domain or in her study. Maybe both? She’s not too sure. “But maybe not so smart when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Impa elbows her ribs, and she furrows her brow. Did Impa know about Mipha?

“What are you talking about?”

Impa laughs again, but this time it sounds like there’s something she doesn’t know. “Ridiculous, sometimes, how the simplest things are left unseen.”

* * *

Planned for dinner is pumpkin soup, steamed fish, vegetable stir fry, and rice. She isn’t sure why everyone is so resistant to her helping, but after an unnecessary amount of wheedling, she gets to wash and cut the vegetables. Link cleans the scales off the fish, Paya rinses the rice, and Impa finds a chair in the corner to rest. She feels like she’s playing house, but it’s nice. 

When they sit down to eat, they all bow their heads and begin dinner with the quiet clink of chopsticks. “Thank you for the food.”

“Paya,” Zelda says, hoping to make some small talk. Paya looks at her in a way that manages to be nervous and surprised and eager all at once. “You have a lovely name. Where’d you get it from?”

This is definitely the wrong thing to say, because three things happen at once: Paya buries her face in her hands, Link nearly chokes on his food, and Impa cackles.

She’s confused. “Um--”

“I-it’s a strange story,” Paya explains. “I have a birthmark shaped like a papaya seed.”

“Oh,” Zelda replies. She’s not going to ask where because she's smarter than that. “That’s a nice story, not strange at all.”

“The strange part is where--”

“Grandmother!” Paya says. 

Zelda smiles, and watches Link do the same into his tea. “It’s ok, I don’t need to know.”

A beat passes. Link finds a chunk of fish that doesn’t have bones in it.

“Impa,” she starts again. I was thinking about restoration--”

Impa raises a hand. 

“We can talk about business once we’re done eating,” she suggests gently.

Zelda’s not too sure if Impa’s worried that she’ll start crying again, or if it’s truly not the right time, but she needs Impa’s guidance and wisdom if she’s going to rebuild the world. 

“After dinner I have something to show you,” Impa says, and she nods, satisfied for now. Maybe it’ll be some political texts summarizing the state of things post-Calamity.

Impa sets her eyes on Link. “Now, when are you planning on lighting the torches by the goddess statue? Rola’s made quite a fuss about this in the journal of worries.”

“Ah,” he says with a sheepish grin. “I _knew_ I was forgetting something when I last left town.”

“Cado’s also lost his Cuccos again,” Impa groans. “But just like I told the Princess, we can discuss business after dinner.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Cado and those Cuccos.”

He really must know everyone in Hyrule, Zelda muses. And even if he doesn’t, she guesses that at this point, everyone knows him. And while a hundred years ago the thought of being known was difficult to the point where he became selectively mute, it doesn’t seem to bother him now. He says hi to people, remembers all their names, and apparently helps them light torches and find chickens. 

Link’s different, but in the best way possible. 

She can feel the presence of the sword in the corner of the room. It’s a constant buzzing in the background for her, a constant reminder of how Hylia chose him and how he rose to the occasion.

(A nagging voice in the back of her mind reminds her how by contrast, she was born into her power and failed.)

The sword is talking to her again. _Different_ , it agrees. _Different, but good_.

* * *

After dinner, Impa leads them to the rooms that they’ll sleep in, even though Zelda insists that they could stay in an inn if it would be more convenient.

“Don’t be silly,” Impa says, waving a hand. “I’ve had these rooms prepared as soon as I heard Ganon was gone. You can wash up in the room at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you,” Zelda says, and Link bows his head in gratitude. Without even really looking inside, he fishes out a bow and arrows and places his other things down.

“I’ll go light those torches by the statue,” he explains, and Impa pats his back. 

“She’ll be very very glad.”

Their rooms are modest but well furnished, with a bed, a dresser, and even a small desk and chair for writing. Zelda appreciates how cozy it feels, and opens her backpack to begin putting things away.

“Princess,” Impa says, opening her dresser, “What I promised to show you is inside here.”

Impa holds out a shirt that looks like an exact replica of her old tunic. She’s not too sure if what she’s seeing is real at first--maybe this is a Storm-Princess situation, where she’s just seeing the past in everything, but there’s that blue champion fabric that took her so long to decide on, and the triforce in the middle. 

“Do you like it?” Impa asks.

It takes her a bit to realize her mouth is hanging open. “How did you get this?”

“I made it to the best of my abilities,” she says with a smile. “You didn’t answer my question—do you like it?”

“Yes,” she says, still stunned.

“And concerning restoration,” Impa says, putting the tunic back into the closet, “I’ve left a couple of books for you to read over the next few days on that desk. One summarizes life in the past hundred years, or what we call the Age of Burning fields, and another concerns the role of the Royal Family. I have more if you’d like. But I’m going to be honest, Princess--I think all you need to do at this moment is rest.”

This is the second time Impa’s said this today, but if she’s going to be honest, the thought never crossed her mind. All she thought about was visiting the resting places of the Champions and rebuilding the world she destroyed. Rest is a foreign concept.

“I...I hadn’t considered that,” she admits.

“Give it some thought.” Impa is so kind and gentle and wise, and she wants to reach out and tell her everything. “But I’m sure today must’ve been overwhelming, so I’ll leave you be. Have a good night’s sleep, and we can talk sometime soon.” 

Impa shuffles out of the room and begins closing the door after her.

“Wait,” Zelda says, catching her just before it shuts. “Impa--thank you for doing your part to save the world.”

The expression on Impa’s face is suddenly even more serious, and she bows as low as she can.

“It was my honor.”

* * *

At an unknown hour she walks to the statue of Hylia. All the torches next to it are lit, and she wonders if Rola knows. Probably.

She’d planned to pray for wisdom, but all she can do is stare at the statue. How many times did she look at this stone face and find nothing? Standing in frigid spring water, keenly aware that she had goddess blood but still couldn’t hear a thing? 

She knows that was only when she was still all human. Deep in the sanctum, she heard Hylia. When Ganon wasn’t squelching and screeching, the goddess spoke to her. Of what, she doesn’t remember. Maybe it was about the fabric of the universe; maybe it was about what she could've done differently in the face of the apocalypse. Maybe it was about how she should’ve styled her hair for all she knows. 

Looking at the statue now, she doesn’t know if she would hear something if she closed her eyes and prayed.

(She knows she’s too afraid to find out.) 


	5. i've seen you here before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew, has work been *busy* recently. but i never post a chapter unless i have the next one completely written, so there's always more in store 🤠

Zelda doesn’t know how long she stares at the statue.

Only that as soon as there’s a hand on her shoulder, she jumps. It’s much lighter outside now, and in the distance doors open and villagers amble out to start their day. It’s morning.

She turns around and sees Link. His eyes look a bit bleary, like he just woke up.

“Breakfast,” he says, and yawns. “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks.” She’s wearing the tunic Impa made for her.

They walk inside to the dining room where Paya and Impa have already gathered, bowls of congee lined up for everyone.

“Good morning Princess,” Paya says.

She sits and bows her head. “Good morning. Sorry for being late.”

“No, no.” Impa waves her hand and points to the bowl in front of her. “Eat.”

“Thank you for the food.”

She picks up her chopsticks and begins eating only as a courtesy. 

Anytime she remembers the sanctum, it’s unsettling. It’s difficult understanding that she was actually there once. At one point, she fused with a goddess to keep evil at bay. Yesterday she was preparing vegetables for dinner, and two weeks ago she could feel her magic cracking as Ganon grew. Everything was hot and humid and horrible, and nothing felt real. Even thinking back to the visions she saw of Link, did they all actually happen? She just assumed that they did, but did she dream of some of them? He never wears green, right, but if she thinks really hard and tries to remember, she could’ve sworn--

“Princess,” Paya says. “Would you like a tour of Kakariko today?”

“Oh,” Zelda replies on instinct. Right--she’s in Kakariko Village right now. She’s eating breakfast. Impa’s adorable granddaughter is asking her a question about taking a tour of Kakariko. It would be rude to say no. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“It’ll only take a little bit!” Paya says, smiling. “Our town is humble but beautiful.”

Zelda tries to smile, but Paya isn’t looking at her. She follows her line of sight.

“Link,” Paya says. A flush floods into her face, and Zelda wonders if he notices. Probably not, judging by the way he looks at her only briefly before adding more rice seasoning to his porridge. “Would you like to come along?”

“Sure,” he replies. 

“Ah, to be young again. You three have a wonderful time,” Impa says, and gets up. “I unfortunately have my first meeting of the day--I’ll catch you all at dinner.”

She leaves, and Link scratches at the back of his head.

“Paya, actually,” he says. “I just remembered. Lasli wanted help with something, and she told me to meet her by the shop sometime this morning?”

Paya looks crestfallen at this, and Zelda knows she can do something, no matter how small--Paya’s been so kind, and she wants to repay her in any way she can.

“Please,” she chimes in. “It would be nice to have you come along.”

Link looks at her, and she tries her best to keep her expression neutral. “Hm. Ok--sure?”

“You know,” he continues, a slight frown on his face, “it’s super safe here, especially now. But I guess I’ll catch Lasli later, or maybe we can stop by Enchanted first on the tour?”

“Good to know that it’s safe,” she says. She wonders if he genuinely thinks that she's scared of monsters (or anything, really) after what she’s seen. “But it’d be nice to go on a tour together, wouldn’t it be?”

Link nods. “I guess.”

Paya grins.

A part of her thinks it’s silly, helping Paya with her romantic ambitions, when she considers what she was doing for the last century. But if she starts thinking about that hell again, she won’t be able to stop. And at any rate, this—Paya’s shy glance and Link’s oblivious nod—this feels important too, and she forces herself to finish eating and engage in conversation.

* * *

Kakariko is, like Paya said, humble but beautiful. 

The houses are neat, the water is crisp and clear, and small surprises are everywhere. Here’s a Korok floating in the pond by Impa’s house. There’s a painter studying the Goddess statue and waving to Link.

“Hey!” he says. “Glad you got all those memories.”

Link waves back. “Hey, Pikango.”

Zelda imagines that under normal circumstances, they’d be able to cover the village in thirty minutes. But in the first few stores they stop in, everyone wants to have a conversation, and everyone wants to call her “Princess” and genuflect. She doesn’t know how to tell them to stop, or if they should. If she’s Queen for one day, she’ll have to get used to this, right? 

Everyone they encounter is so generous too; the woman who runs the general store insists on making them lunch. The inn owner asks them if they’d like an afternoon nap. The woman running the arrows shop--Rola--whistles when they walk in. 

“Hey, hero,” Rola says, in a tone that’s much too forward for the middle of the day. She holds a red rupee in her hand. “Thanks for lighting the lamps last night. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen an arrow nocked like that.”

Link waves his hand. “No problem, and no need for payment.”

She motions for them to come closer, and places the rupee in his hand. “Please.”

Zelda sneaks a look at Paya, who studies the fire arrows as if they’re the most interesting thing in the world. 

After they visit the shops, they walk by gardens growing plum trees and pumpkins and carrots. Villagers stop doing their laundry to stare at them, and Zelda is grateful that Paya keeps her distracted with fun facts--here’s the first building in the village, at least three times as old as Impa. There’s the shrine watching over the village. Here’s their final stop by the chicken coop. Zelda can already spot a few Cuccos outside of their designated home.

“These guys are everywhere,” she notes, amused. “Why bother having a coop for them?”

“Cado,” Link says, shaking his head. “He’d choose Cuccos over life itself.”

There’s definitely a backstory here, but she doesn’t get to ask it, because Link brings up the thought of visiting Enchanted again. 

“Paya, Lasli said she had something in the morning that she wanted help with,” he says. “Can we head there now so I can ask her?”

Paya blushes, and it dawns on Zelda that perhaps there’s a reason that they’ve avoided this place so far. 

“I-I need to go polish the deities,” Paya says, too quick. Ah. There definitely is a reason. She turns to Zelda. “Thank you, Princess, Master Link, for indulging me. I hope you all enjoyed it!”

“Paya--” Link starts, but she starts walking and doesn’t look back. 

“Thank you!” she says again, still not facing them.

“Weird,” he murmurs. “Let’s go meet with Lasli.”

Enchanted, as it turns out, is a charming armor shop. And in it works a very charming girl named Lasli, who is very charmed by Link.

(At this point, Zelda wonders if every girl in Kakariko is in love with him. It’s very impressive, and only slightly distressing.)

“Hero!” Lasli says when they walk in, and from one word alone Zelda knows why Paya didn’t want to be here. Lasli smiles, a perfect coat of red lipstick on her mouth. She grabs Link’s hands in hers, her nails a matching shade of carmine. “I’m _so glad_ you’re here.”

“Princess Zelda.” Lasli lets go of his hands to take the knee, and Zelda sees that the shopkeeper has done the same. “Thank you so much for your sacrifice.”

 _Sacrifice_. What a strange word to hear again.

“No need to kneel.” She motions upward awkwardly. “Please, stand. It’s nice to meet you both.”

Lasli turns her attention back to Link, and the shopkeeper hurries over. 

“Princess Zelda, hello! My name is Claree. Are you interested in any of our wares? Everything is curated carefully, and our Sheikah Set offers special bonuses!”

Zelda nods, and follows Claree to one of two displays in the shop. “I’d love to see what you have.”

“This is our Hylian Set,” Claree explains, and encourages Zelda to feel the edges of the fabric. “Basic everyday wear for your everyday needs! The Gerudo cotton in the hood is durable and lightweight, and the Hateno wool in the tunic keeps you nice and warm.”

“It feels lovely,” she says. “Fashionable too.”

“I know, right?” Claree seems delighted. “Would you be interested in the set?” 

She tries to take a subtle look at the price tags, and balances politeness and pragmatism in her head. “Maybe just the hood?”

“Yes of course, Princess! Great choice, it’ll look so wonderful on you. I’ll bag it after I show off the Sheikah Set. It’s a noise cancelling fabric that’s excellent for any stealthy adventures, and its ancient technology is a well-kept...”

As soon as she sees the red symbol in the middle of the chest guard Claree’s pointing out, she stops listening. Something magnetic happens, and she reaches out to touch the fabric; it feels unnervingly familiar against her skin. She rubs her fingers against it, and doesn’t hear a rustle. 

There’s a memory here somewhere, dancing just out of reach. She needs this.

“I’ll take it,” she says, and she doesn’t realize that she’s interrupted Claree.

Claree handles the interruption with grace. “Oh, perfect! I’m assuming the whole set, right? Let me get some boxes, and then I’ll fold everything up.”

“Thank you.”

She squints at the chest guard again. Maybe there’s something here that she’s missing, some clue or some memory that would explain the pull. She knows she hasn’t worn this before, but at the same time...

“Oh, the Stealth Set?” 

Link’s suddenly next to her, and she’s back to reality. She definitely hasn’t worn this before; she’s spent most of her life in dresses.

Lasli looks over. “Hey, you have one of these, don’t you?”

He nods.

“It was one of the first things you bought, remember,” Lasli says with a smile. “That and the hoo--”

“The Hylian Hood and the Sheikah Set for you, Princess.” Claree walks out with a box.

“You bought it?” he asks, and she nods, before realizing—

“Oh, god,” she says, and she looks at the price tags of the Stealth Set. Oh _god_ this is double the money she has right now. “Ah, Claree, actually, I--”

Claree must notice her looking at the tags in distress because she laughs, and places the box in her hands. “Please, Princess, don’t worry about something silly like payment.”

“I—” she looks to Link for help, but he looks surprised too. “Wait, what do you mean? I couldn’t possibly take all this for free. Please, let me come back some other time.”

“No,” Claree replies firmly with a shake of the head. She looks at them both. “You’re the Hero and the Princess of Hyrule. Kakariko’s debt to you two can never be repaid. Anytime you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“We’re honored that you’d want to wear our clothes!” Lasli adds.

Claree nods. “Truly honored.”

She thinks of Impa saying something very similar, and the memory replaces her resistance. She nods and bites the inside of her mouth.

“Thank you,” she says, bowing her head.

Claree smiles. “Thank _you_.”

When they leave the shop, Link insists on carrying the box even though it really isn’t all that heavy.

“I know,” he says, and he carries it anyway. “Hey, do you want to make the Stealth Set a bit stronger?”

She tilts her head. “Stronger?”

“Oh, have you ever--never mind,” he says. 

They reach the door to Impa’s house.

“Come with me after dinner,” he says, and she opens the door for him. There’s a hint of a smile on his face, and she wonders what he has planned. “I want to show you something.”

* * *

Whatever that something is involves three big mason jars.

After dinner--a hearty stew and a variety of rice balls that she helped prepare, from meat to mushroom to carrot--Link rifles through the cabinets in the kitchen and finds the jars. He grabs a cloth bag to put them in, she grabs the box of armor, and they’re at the door.

“Out so soon?” Impa asks. 

Link nods. “I’ll take her to Cotera.”

“Cotera!” Impa says, stifling a yawn. She’s tired today; at dinner she could only muster a “good” when Paya told her about the tour, and Zelda imagines if Impa were at full energy right now, her smile would actually reach her eyes. “Have fun.”

Paya looks nervous as she sees them out. 

“Master Link,” she says, and it’s evident to Zelda that it’s hard for her to look at him or address him. “Would you two need any help?”

“Ah, that’s alright,” Link says, and come _on_ , he _has_ to see the disappointment in her face. He has to see what’s going on here. “I’ll take you to see Cotera some other time.”

“Alright,” she says, bowing her head.

“Have a good evening,” Zelda says, failing to catch Paya’s eye with a smile, and they’re on their way.

The sun sets over the mountains that tower over Kakariko, and he takes her up the road. Things were lively during the day, but they feel slower now. They stop at a bridge over a gentle stream, and Zelda realizes that the glowing she saw in the distance was fireflies. Up close she can see their wings flutter as they zip about.

“We need fifteen of these,” Link says, and he places a jar in her hands. “Five per jar.”

She nods, and opens the lid. 

Perhaps these will go into an elixir that this Cotera character will use to make her clothes stronger? Link still hasn’t explained much, but he is exceptionally (infuriatingly) good at capturing fireflies. By the time she gets her second, he’s caught a jar’s worth, and by the looks of it, he’s almost done filling his second one.

“This is embarrassing,” she murmurs. 

“Go in slow,” he explains, creeping up on one just over the bridge railing. “And then like _this._ Close the jar.”

She doesn’t quite get it, even with the demonstration, but she somehow manages to fill her jar as he runs off to find something else.

He comes back holding flowers. They’re glowing faintly.

“Blue nightshade?” she asks, and he nods. 

“We’ll find more around Cotera,” he says, and he points up a path. “Let’s go.”

“Who’s Cotera?” she says to break the silence as they hike the hill. They pass by Dorian, who seems to be doing some evening exercise. “You all seem to know her, but I have no clue.”

“You’ll see,” he says, and they fall silent again.

They pass the shrine watching over the village--she has yet to go in one, and she makes a note to ask him if he’d take her --and a Blupee. It jumps at the sight of them, and runs into a clearing with a shallow pond and a glittering, ornate fountain in the shape of a flower. It looks unreal in the middle of the forest. The colors, the gold, the pastel mushrooms--looking at it feels like a dream. If she strains her ears, she swears she can hear the hum of a harp.

While she creeps closer in awe, Link continues plucking nightshade that grow brighter in the dying light. 

“Alright,” he says once he’s satisfied. “We’ve got enough now. Let me wake her.”

He leaves the bag of flowers and jars at Zelda’s feet, and climbs the path to the fountain with the box of armor. As soon as he reaches the top, a rumbling starts. She wonders for a split second what could make the earth shake like this, but as soon as she starts wondering, a giant woman who must be Cotera rises out of the water and yells in delight. It almost hurts to look at her. She’s bright and dazzling and gorgeous, and she smiles Link.

“Welcome back, boy,” she says, patting a finger atop his head. “It’s lovely to see you again. Do you want me to enhance your clothing? I see you have something in that box there.”

“Yes,” Link answers and opens it. “The Stealth Set.”

“And,” he continues, stepping aside and looking at Zelda. “I was hoping to get help with this for her. We have all the materials for two upgrades.”

“Oh, you brought a friend,” Corera says, and Zelda finds the courage to walk up to Link’s side with the materials. It’s intimidating how huge Cotera is. But her smile is friendly and her eyes are playful. “Drop the flowers in the water and release the fireflies, and I’ll see what my magic can do. Ah, but while you do that boy--girl, would you like to change into the gear? It’ll be a bit easier that way. There should be a nice dry spot behind the fountain.”

Zelda tries her best to maintain eye contact as she nods. It’s like staring at the sun. She walks behind the fountain, and changes as quickly as she can. The fabric is smooth and snug, and she catches a glimpse of her reflection in a puddle. The memory of when she wore this before ebbs and flows just out of reach.

She walks out, and Link is opening the mason jars. Fireflies dance around the water, drawing close to Cotera. 

“You look lovely, girl,” she says, and Zelda dips her head a bit at the compliment. “Please, come closer.”

Link moves out of the way, and Cotera hums in approval. “Perfect, the exact amount. Alright, let me do my thing.”

Cotera cups her hands together, makes a kissing noise, and blows. Zelda watches as the air around her literally sparkles; the armor hums with quiet power. She can definitely hear the tunes of a harp now, and it’s magical. She closes her eyes. It feels like sitting in the shade on a perfect summer day, or seeing the grass turn green in spring.

But it’s over too quickly, and Cotera giggles. “You look quite stunned.”

“I--thank you,” Zelda breathes, rocking back into reality. It feels like she just woke up from the loveliest dream.

“No worries dear,” Cotera says. “You should feel a little bit stronger and maybe even a little bit faster now.”

She nods, and repeats, “Thank you.”

Link walks back to her side. “Thanks for your help, Cotera.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take a closer look at your clothing?” she asks with a wink. Link shakes his head. “I promise my kisses only get better.”

 _Kisses_? Zelda looks over at Link, and he looks alarmed.

“No, no,” he says. He’s distinctly uncomfortable, and she has to ask him about this. “Thank you for your help.”

“Well, alright,” Cotera says, playfully disappointed. She kisses her finger and pats Zelda’s forehead. It’s unexpectedly tender. “Welcome back, Princess, Hero.”

Zelda can only look at her. _Princess?_ How would she—

“All magic is connected, you know.” 

Before Zelda has time to ask any questions, Cotera jumps into the fountain, and the light in the area decreases exponentially. It’s nighttime now, and she wonders if they've been here for an hour or a minute.

“So,” Link says after a silence, and begins stuffing the mason jars in the bag. “What’d you think?”

She looks at her arms wrapped in the armor, and picks up the box full of her day clothes. “That was certainly...something.”

He smiles. “Cotera can be a lot. But she’s right.”

“About what?”

He starts walking back the way they came, and she follows. 

“The set looks good. It fits you well.”

“Oh,” she says, and she’s glad the mask covers half her face. She’s not too sure how to react to that. “Thank you.”

He stops walking suddenly, and studies her more closely. His brow furrows. “And I swear--I didn’t realize this until now but--have I have seen you in something like this before?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Really.” He falls into a thoughtful silence. 

“But--but I had a similar feeling earlier. I think I’ve seen this before somewhere.”

“Huh,” he says. A beat passes, and he stops walking to look into her eyes as if he’s trying to remember something. His eyes are so blue, his stare so curious, that she has to look somewhere else. But before she does, the wind passes through his hair, and she notices how long his bangs have gotten. Has he also gotten taller? He has. He’s taller and his eyes are bluer and he’s surprisingly easier to talk to and he opens his mouth as if to say something, and she needs to cut him off to cut off this train of thought. 

So she blurts out the first thing to come to mind, which to be fair, is also something she’s been thinking all day.

“Maybe I’m reading into this too much, but is every girl in Kakariko in love with you?”

The way confusion transitions into shock on his face is almost funny. “What?”

“Oh come on,” she says. Her heart is beating abnormally fast. _Move on, move on_. “Surely you see it?”

“I--I don’t,” Link says, and she’s never seen him look so uncomfortable. He scratches at the back of his head. “Hm.”

She smiles, and her voice turns teasing. “I mean, are you going to make me start listing names? If I _had_ to, I guess we could start with Paya, then Lasli, then Rola probably, and definitely whatever just happened back there with Cot--””

“Ok, ok!” he says. His cheeks are red now. “Ok, I get your point. But, I mean, I wouldn’t call it _in love_. But I know that--I think that--they like me?”

“ _Like?_ ” she asks. She starts walking down the hill again now that her heart doesn't feel like it's in her throat, and he follows. “Like is an understatement. These women would fight Lynels for you. Move mountains.”

“Save Hyrule?” he offers.

“Yes,” she says, laughing. “They’d save Hyrule for you.”


End file.
